Would You Stay? That Depends Would You?
by quickssalgron13
Summary: They say that you only know you love someone when you let them go. But what happens when you let that person go too many times? Is it possible to ever find your way back? One shot.


_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all and I'm broke because of Taylor Swift woo**_

_**A/N: I know its probably the dumbest idea ever to start another fic but this idea won't get the heck out of my head. Still debating on leaving it as a one shot or not..**_

* * *

They say that if you love someone, you're supposed to let them go, no matter how much you want to keep them in your hands and hold onto them. If you really love someone, you're supposed to open up your hands and let them stretch out their wings and fly free, no matter how much it hurts you to let go. You're supposed to let them fly out into the world, and experience it for themselves. And one day, if that person truly loves you the way you love them, they will grow tired of stretching their wings out and flying solo around the world. The luxuries and the freedom will grow tiring, and they will long to be held tight again, to feel you love them again. If you love someone, let them go. If they love you, the world won't be as appealing without you, and your lover will fly right on back to you.

Puck's mother used to tell him that every night before bed, and it had always confused him how you could every grow tired of being free. He certainly wouldn't miss his freedom, and so he flew solo, experiencing the world as he went along. He didn't believe in love. Until he met Quinn Fabray, and then suddenly it all made sense, as all he wanted was to scoop her up and keep her close to him forever. He loved her. And maybe she had loved him too, in her own way. But Quinn wasn't one to be kept, to be held close and loved. She longed to be free, to escape Lima, and to escape him and their past. So on graduation, he had done as his mother had advised and when Quinn announced she was leaving for Yale the next day, he didn't shout, didn't yell, didn't beg. He let her go. If she loved him as much as he loved her, she would come back to him.

Unluckily for him, Quinn didn't come back.

And he doubted she had ever truly loved him.

* * *

"Another for the road, darling? Unless you'd like something else?" asked the waitress, a sweet little smile playing on her bright red lips. Every time he came out to this bar, Candy would insist on serving him. He had liked her at first; she was funny and good company whilst he slaved over the paperwork that never seemed to end. But her constant flirting had begun to grate on his nerves at this point. However, it was rude to tell her that, and so he let her bring him another coffee, sighing and turning the page.

The bar was small, and a little darker than most bars, and maybe that's why he liked it so much. It was quiet, and there was never more than ten people at a time scattered around the tables. It was peaceful, and the coffee really was great, especially with the mountains of paperwork that often kept him here long into the night. At twenty six years old, Puck owned his own music studio franchise that ran through most of the country. He was proud of what he did, proud that he got out of Lima.

"I thought she was never going to leave," a husky voice smirked from behind him, sweet vanilla perfume invading his senses as blonde hair brushed across his shoulder, a perfect body sitting herself down on the stool beside him. "Some women just don't get the hint, do they?" she asked, licking her lips a little and bringing her glass of lemonade to her mouth, curling her tongue around an ice chip and smiling playfully at him.

"Quinn. What are you doing here?" Puck asked, frowning a little at the sight of the woman he hadn't seen in eight years. She looked good, breathtakingly so, with her long blonde hair and her sparkling hazel eyes that seemed to see straight through him.

"You know how much I love good music. This bar seems to be the only place in all of New York that doesn't insist on deafening me with squeaky little boy bands," Quinn grumbled, though her playful smirk never left her lips, moisture from her lemonade glistening on her lips. He knew by the mischievous glint in her eyes that she was here for a lot more than the fact that the bar had a tendency to play a few Sam Smith songs here and there. "And maybe when I saw you sitting here last night, talking to _her_, I found a whole new reason to come back here," she purred, leaning forwards a little and licking her lips, winking at him before tossing a glance towards the waitress who was watching them with narrowed eyes and rubbing his thigh a little.

"Seriously, Q? We haven't seen each other in eight years and you're pulling the jealous girlfriend act?" he snorted, shaking his head a little and taking a long gulp of his coffee before returning his attention to the paperwork before him. Quinn hadn't bothered to contact him at all in eight years, and he'd be damned if he gave her his full attention now. "Its not a good look for you, babe," he added, knowing without looking that she would either be pouting or shooting daggers at Candy.

"What is a good look for me, Puckerman?" she breathed, tilting her head a little, her eyebrow arching effortlessly as she smirked that sexy little smile at him again, her fingers trailing up his arm, sending shivers up both their spines, the blonde humming a little in delight at the touch of his skin. "Mmm, I have to go," she announced suddenly, cutting him off as he was about to speak, checking the clock on the wall again as she slid off of her stool.

"Just like that again, huh," he muttered in response, highlighting a section in the paperwork before turning the page, licking his lips a little. He didn't want to talk to her, get attached to her again, and so he kept his focus on his work. Quinn had a habit of drifting in and out of his life just when he was getting over her.

It was as if she could sense it, as if she knew what he was thinking before he did.

"You'll see me again," she smiled, and for a moment he saw his Quinn in place of the guarded flirty Quinn he had seen a second ago. It was almost enough for him to reach out and grab onto her, to hold on tight and never let go of her again.

But he loved her, and so he had to let her go, had to let her fly free.

Quinn left again.

* * *

That night he couldn't sleep, the smell of Quinn's vanilla perfume somehow having stuck with him, meaning that no matter what he did, he couldn't escape the smell of her, despite having taken four showers to try. It was ironic, actually, as he was never able to get free of Quinn, either. He didn't understand why she was back, why she had actually approached him and pulled the jealousy act over Candy showing an interest in him.

It was all very confusing, but he knew better than to try to understand the way Quinn's mind worked. He had been trying for twelve years, ever since they met at fourteen, to try to figure out the way she worked. And he never had, or at least not completely.

Puck sighed and rolled over onto his stomach, closing his eyes and seeing flashes of blonde hair and hazel eyes as he slept.

Vanilla was the first thing he smelt when he woke the next morning.

If he didn't know better, he would've sworn she had been in the bed beside him.

Her perfume was everywhere, and evidently so was she.

* * *

Puck was sat in the bar again the next day, half hoping Quinn would show up again, and half hoping she wouldn't. She was like a drug to him; he wanted to get over her but every time he had her, her was addicted again. The bar was just as quiet as always, a family sat in the corner eating pancakes and a few people dotted around with mugs of coffee. Candy was sat next to him, babbling on about her new puppy, whilst he finished off the paperwork for the new record deal he had just finalised for a new artist. He had almost forgotten about Quinn, when she walked in, her cheeks tinged red from the coldness of the outside, her eyes sparkling and that sexy little smirk tugging at her lips.

She looked amazing in a simple white dress, and he noticed that everyone in the bar was staring at her. Who wouldn't stare at her though, really?

"You're back, then," Puck noted as she took the other seat beside him, watching her shiver and rub her hands together beneath the table. She looked as though she was freezing, and he had handed his jacket to her before he had even realised what he was doing, Quinn offering him a grateful smile, the smile freezing a little when she noticed Candy sat close to his other side.

"I'll have a latte," Quinn smiled, leaning over Puck a little to address the waitress, pursing her lips a little and cocking her head at the sight of her fingers on Puck's thigh. "I'd like it before the next ice age," she added, as the waitress made no sign of moving anytime soon. Puck simply stared at the blonde in slight shock as Candy trudged away to the kitchen. He could never understand her, how she was hot one second and cold the next. How she didn't want him, but she didn't want anyone else to have him, either. But he didn't mention it, and went right on back to his paperwork, Quinn's eyes hot on his body as she watched him.

Quinn was silent for a long moment, and he had been silent too, the two of them sat as close as could be, yet neither speaking a word to the other. It had always been like that with them, and the silence was neither awkward nor comforting. It was just silence, Quinn sipping her drink and licking her lips every now and then. It was pretty sad, what had become of them.

"What are you working on?" Quinn asked finally, when it seemed he wouldn't be the one to break the silence. She knew that the silence between them was mostly her fault; she had cut off communication with him after she had left, and so she figured he didn't really know who she was anymore.

Too bad he would always know her better than anyone else.

He knew the real her, the her that she only ever let him see, and because of that, the years of change between them didn't seem to matter in her eyes. They could always pick up right where they had left off, or at least they had been able to throughout high school.

"Finalising a record deal before I move on to California," Puck shrugged, signing the bottom of the sheet of paper, catching the slight look of panic in Quinn's eyes. "Why?" he asked, leaning towards her a little, picking up one of her ice cold hands and holding it in both of his to try to warm her up a bit, blowing on her knuckles and smirking a little at the ragged breath that left her lips.

"I was just wondering what you do for a living, that's all. I've missed out on a lot," Quinn whispered, biting her lip at the feeling of him holding her hand again. She had spent a lot of cold nights in New Haven missing the way he warmed her up, inside and out. But by then it was too late to go back, too late to ask him to take her back, too late to have him. "Tell me something about you. Something that I don't know," she hummed, studying his face carefully. His skin was a touch darker than it had been in high school, his hair dark. She longed to run her fingers through his hair, to hold onto it as they made up for lost time.

"You know everything about me," he reminded her with a snort. Quinn knew every inch of him, inside and out. Just as he knew every part of her, too.

"Yes," she agreed, a playful smile curling her lips upwards. "I know what you look like without all these clothes, I know what you taste like, your lips, your skin, you. I know exactly how much you love it when I get on top of you and ride you until we forget our names. I know what it sounds like when you come for me," she purred, leaning into him to brush her fingers up his thigh and dropping a kiss on his neck before sucking lightly, flicking her tongue out over the light hickey she had left him with. "And I know how much you like it when I do that," she murmured, kissing the mark again before sitting back a little. "That's some things that _she _will never know," she hummed, nodding her head towards Candy with a satisfied smirk.

"And how do you know that, huh? How do you know I haven't made her scream like I made you?" he asked in return, his voice just as low and husky as hers, Quinn letting out a soft little growl and tugging his face close to hers, Puck smirking a little. She was jealous, angry at the slightest implication of him sleeping with the waitress. It was funny, how suddenly possessive she was when she was the one that had left him. "How do you know that I haven't kissed her like I used to kiss you?" he murmured, arching his brow a little, the blonde growling again, her eyes flashing a little. "You don't know anything, Quinn. I could take her home with me every night, for all you know," he added, knowing he was adding fuel to the fire that was jealous Quinn, but he couldn't seem to stop. He wanted to see if she still wanted him, if he meant anything to her at all.

Quinn didn't answer right away, panting her anger out in low breaths, fighting to get herself back under control, swallowing and letting out a cleansing breath. "You're right," she told him, pulling away from him and bringing her latte to her lips. "I don't know, and I don't care. You can sleep with whoever you want," she smiled, humming to herself a little as she picked up a menu, Puck sighing in defeat as she closed off from him. Maybe he was wrong after all, maybe she didn't want him, didn't care for him.

So he got up from his seat and headed down the hall to the bathroom, needing to put distance between himself and Quinn. Maybe he should move on to California sooner, maybe he should look for a new bar. He wasn't so sure that Quinn waltzing back into his life was what he wanted, or needed right now. She wouldn't stay. They wouldn't become friends. Quinn would probably stick around for a week at most before she dropped out of his life again. She had told him to his face that she didn't care about him.

But when he left the bathroom, he saw Quinn and Candy in a darkened corner of the bar, Candy against the wall and Quinn leaning threateningly over her, keeping her trapped against the boxes of alcohol that lined the walls. He moved back out of their sight but was still close enough to be able to hear what they were saying, or rather, what Quinn was hissing.

"He's mine."

So, maybe she cared after all.

But it didn't stop her from leaving again.

* * *

The next two weeks continued like that. Quinn would always come to join him in the bar as he worked, sometimes asking him questions about his work, and other times sitting there in silence and simply watching. Sometimes she was sweet, and funny, and they would almost be friends, and others she was playful, cruel and teasing, and he wished he could forget her.

But he couldn't.

That was their problem.

They couldn't forget.

They were sat in one of the booths today, or rather he was, and she was led down on her back across his lap, trying her best to distract him from her work and giggling every time she did so. He liked this Quinn, the bubbly one that wanted to play silly games with him and the one he could see himself marrying and growing old with. It was a shame that she hardly ever let him see this side of her.

"You're thinking about something, I can tell. What is it?" Quinn asked, swinging her legs a little, smirking to herself as she kicked Candy as she passed by their table and glared at her. It amused her how easily she could annoy the little waitress. Good. It served her right for trying to make a move on what was rightfully hers.

Puck sighed in response to her question and patted the exposed skin of her knee lightly, glancing around the bar. It was livelier today, with more people laughing and others singing along to the music that was playing. It felt good, _he _felt good today, with Quinn sprawled out across his lap and drumming along to the song on his stomach. He had missed her, as much as he pretended he hadn't, and he didn't want her to leave again.

But she was Quinn, and she always left, so he kept quiet about the way he was feeling.

He loved her, so he couldn't hold her back.

"You didn't answer my question," she reminded him, frowning a little and pushing up on her elbows, Puck swallowing a little as the movement caused her breasts to bounce a little in her dress.

"You never answer any of mine," he replied with a shrug, closing the folder of papers and putting it into his bag, turning his attention to Quinn who simply arched her eyebrow at him in response. She clearly wanted her answer. "Fine, I was thinking about senior year, and how we were together for the whole of it and no one ever knew. I was thinking about the fact that you left me, and never returned any of my calls, when I know for a fact that the rest of the glee club were getting visits and texts and calls and letters. I never got a single thing from you, and now you show up here and you're spending all your time here with me and I don't understand. I don't understand why suddenly I'm allowed to know you again," he admitted, sighing a little and scratching at his neck, Quinn lifting herself out of his lap and huddling in the corner of the booth.

"What do you want from me, Puck?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest, her posture straightening a little.

She was closing off from him again.

"What do I want from you? I want an explanation, Quinn! I want to know why one day I find out that my girlfriend is leaving, _without _me, and why I never got so much as a goodbye from you. Did I really mean that little to you, huh? Was I really that easy for you to push aside and forget?" he demanded angrily, trying to keep his voice quiet so others around them wouldn't hear. "I want you to explain to me why for eight fucking years I heard nothing from you, and now suddenly you're here and you're jealous of other women being interested in me. _You _left _me_ that day, Quinn. I loved you, and you never came back," he accused, hating the fact that he could feel tears burning in his eyes.

Quinn stared at him for a long moment before letting out a small sob, glancing down at her watch and getting up quickly, grabbing her bag and slipping past Puck to get out of the booth. She couldn't answer his questions, not now. She didn't want to explain everything to him, to open herself up to him and be crushed all over again. No. He wasn't allowed to know. She couldn't tell him.

"Quinn, wait, please. Please, please don't go," Puck pleaded, grabbing her hand desperately, not wanting to let her go again. He loved her, and he was sick of letting her go and waiting for her to come back. He didn't want to let her go, ever again. It hurt far too much to be apart from her, but judging by the blankness of her eyes, her walls were back up, and he had lost his chance.

Again.

He loved her, and this time he didn't have to let her go.

Quinn had already walked away from him.

* * *

Quinn walked blindly down the sidewalk, tears burning in her eyes as the harshness of the cold winds hit her in the face, blowing her hair out behind her. It had been almost two months since she had moved here to New York, after finding out that Puck was here. She had come back to see him, to check up on him and make sure he was happy. It hadn't been in her plan to ever approach him, or talk to him, let alone grow attached to him again, to fall for him again.

Not that she had ever really unfallen for him. Ever.

His words were still ringing in her ears. _Please. Please. Don't go. Please. _He had sounded so desperate, so hurt at the thought of her leaving, but she had done so anyway, because that's what she did best. She ran away from her feelings and her problems.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out, knowing already that the text would be from him.

_I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you like that. Don't leave again. Please- Puck_

Quinn sighed and put her phone back in her pocket, closing her eyes tight for a long moment. It was pretty damn ironic that _he _was the one apologising, after everything she had done to him. She loved him, she really, really loved him. But every time she let herself love him, she ended up ruined, or pregnant, or both.

She was damaged goods, ruined and shattered inside, and no good for him. He deserved someone far better than her.

"Mommy!"

Quinn opened her eyes and smiled happily at the swarm of children running out of the elementary school, dropping to her knees as she spotted her son breaking through the crowd and running towards her, his backpack bouncing on his back as he ran. She had lost track of time with Puck, again, and she had very nearly been late to pick up her baby, grunting as the eight year old lunged into her arms and wrapped his arms tight around her neck.

"Hi, baby. How was your day?" Quinn asked with a grin, pulling back from the fierce hug and ruffling her son's dark hair. He was the image of his father, right down to the tanned skin and the half smirk.

"It was good! We learnt about numbers and stuff again, and then we read books. Did you know my name is in a story? This man with my name built this huge ship and crammed it full of animals and birds and stuff. Joey thinks I have an ark, Mommy," Noah grinned, scrunching his nose up and pulling face before grabbing on tight to her hand, swinging their hands as they left the playground. "Did you see Daddy again, today?" he asked, peering up at his Mom who smiled a little.

"Yes, I saw your Daddy today," she nodded, squeezing his little hand and unlocking the car, helping him into the backseat and buckling him in.

Puck would never find out that the reason she had left without saying goodbye was because she found out that she was three months pregnant with their son.

"If I built an ark, I would put you and Daddy on it and we would go away and be happy," Noah told her as they drove down the highway, flipping through his book absently and humming a tune under his breath.

Quinn simply sighed and turned on the radio, keeping her eyes out on the road.

Her mother had always told her when she was drunk, that if she loved someone, she was to set them apart, let them go, let them live. Fabrays were no good for anyone, and if she truly loved Puck, she should let him go and find someone that wasn't as damaged as she was. It was an odd thing for a mother to tell her child, but Quinn knew that it was true. She was damaged, inside and out, and Puck deserved better.

She had to let go, for good this time.

* * *

Quinn had stopped coming to the bar, and he had completely given up all hope of seeing her again. He knew she would leave him again eventually, but it still hurt to lose her again. Candy had been flirting with him even more now that Quinn was gone, and he had allowed her a few kisses here and there, but he felt nothing. No sparks like he did with Quinn. Just emptiness.

A hand slid down his arm to take hold of his hand, and he turned at the feeling, about to tell Candy he wasn't in the mood, when he saw it was actually Quinn who stood before him, holding his hand in hers, looking as flawless as ever, yet he could see there was something broken in her eyes. She wasn't doing so good, he could see by the way she had over used the concealer beneath her eyes that she hadn't been sleeping, and decided not to tell her that she had completely missed a section of hair to straighten. He wondered what it was that she was keeping from him, silently getting up and tugging Quinn down the hall to the bathroom, the blonde stepping inside whilst he closed and locked the door behind them.

Before he had chance to ask her what was wrong, she had pushed him against the wall and her lips were crashing into his, kissing him with a desperate hunger, her hands grabbing at his shirt and tugging it open as she thrust her tongue into his mouth to find his. Puck kissed her back and gripped her ass in his hands, leading her across the bathroom and hoisting her up onto the counter, stepping between her legs as they kissed frantically, his fingers lost in her hair.

Quinn moaned loudly into his mouth as his hand brushed over her breast, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the zipper on the back of her dress, getting to work on ridding him of his jeans. She needed him, needed to love him and feel him love her one last time before she let him go completely. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him, the two of them making out like animals as they ripped at each others clothes.

Puck yanked her dress over her head and threw it aside, kissing her neck and sucking at her pulse, the blonde gasping and throwing her head back against the mirror, her back arching and her legs wrapping tight around his waist, pulling him in closer to her and clutching at his hair. His hands slid in different directions on her body, one cupping her breast and rubbing at her nipple whilst the other gripped and squeezed a handful of her ass. It felt amazing to have him touch her like this again, and so she moaned out his name, licking her lips in a desperate attempt to moisten her dry mouth as he kissed down her collarbone and took a pouting nipple into his mouth. Puck watched her as he sucked at her nipple, his other hand moving from her ass to between her legs, Quinn whimpering and arching up at him, thrusting her breasts out at him in the process as he lazily rubbed her clit through her damp panties.

"Please, Puck, please. I need you, now," Quinn panted, her breasts heaving as she gasped for air, Puck tugging her panties off and ridding himself of his boxers, spreading her legs wide open for him.

"You're so beautiful, Q," Puck murmured, moving her hands away as she tried to cover her stomach, kissing at the stretch marks there, stroking his fingers over her ribs gently and moving down her body, lifting her hips a little and burying his head between her thighs, licking through her drenched folds, the blonde crying out in a choked moan, her body jerking and lifting from the counter, her hands fluttering about in search of something to hold onto, grabbing at her breasts and moaning for him again.

Quinn tugged at his hair and pulled him away from her, bringing him up to kiss him hard, tasting herself on his tongue and groaning in delight, twisting her body a little to try to get his hands away from her ribs that she knew were scattered with several small scars from her car accident. Puck seemed to notice, as he left her lips and pushed her hands away again, kissing every one of the faint white marks, looking up at her whilst doing so, so she would know that she was perfect, in every way possible.

They kissed again, sweeter this time, gentler, Quinn's hands soft against his face as she kissed him again before wrapping a hand around his hardness and guiding him to her entrance, letting go and leaning back against the mirror, leaving it to him to decide if this was what he wanted of not. If he wanted to make love to her again. Her whole body lifted as he entered her, his hands on her hips being the only thing that kept her from flying off the counter as she cried out his name in pleasure, forcing her heavy eyes open to stare into his every time he thrust into her, keeping their faces close. It was sweet, and loving, and his fingers made her feel beautiful as they stroked and teased their way around her body, rocking her hips to take everything he had to give her.

He kissed every salty tear that fell from her eyes as they made love on the counter, and Quinn tried her hardest to tell him how she felt through her kisses, spelling out the word "love," over and over into his back with her fingers as they neared the end. Both of them were emotional- Quinn was crying and Puck was trying his hardest not to- and it had never felt so right. So perfect. So them.

They came at the same time, panting and gasping each other's names out into the air, Quinn digging her fingers into his back as he held on to her hips, his head buried in her neck as he filled her up, Quinn muffling her moans by kissing his hair as best she could, the lovers slumping a little onto the counter, reluctant to ever let go again. But they both had to let go, and it hurt all the more, knowing that they were meant to be together.

Soulmates.

"I love you, Quinn," Puck murmured into her neck, stroking his hand up and down her sweaty back, soothing her as she clung to him. He loved her so much.

"I love you, too, Puck," Quinn breathed, closing her eyes tight and kissing him again. She loved him so much.

They were silent when they finally got dressed again, struggling through five, then ten last kisses before Quinn finally pulled away, tears streaking her cheeks. They both knew they had to let go, had to let each other be happy. They just wouldn't admit to each other that the only person both of them wanted was each other.

That time they let each other go, because when you love someone, you let them go.

And no one had ever loved, the way they loved each other.

If they were meant to be, they would find their way back.

Or maybe that was bullshit.

* * *

He was leaving for California tomorrow, to make sure that branch of his business was doing as well as the one in New York. He had been struggling after letting Quinn go, and he knew she was hurting just as much, as he had caught a glimpse of her yesterday, and she looked completely destroyed. They had always matched that way. His things were all in boxes around the house, and he was sat with one of Quinn's old dresses in his hands, wondering what he had done to deserve losing the love of his life.

Again.

There was a knock at the door, and he knew it was Quinn. He probably shouldn't have ran down the stairs like he did to get to the door, and his heart probably shouldn't have swelled at the sight of her looking so lost and desperate, tears in her eyes. He probably should've asked about the little boy holding onto her hand that looked exactly like him, grinning up at him with Quinn's eyes. He probably should have done more than he did.

But, as soon as the words left Quinn's lips, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her right there and then, the blonde holding on tight to him whilst their son yelled that they were gross and too old to kiss like that. He loved her and she loved him, and they had a son, and he couldn't care less about the reasons why they shouldn't be together, or the technicalities of why this wasn't the logical thing to do.

* * *

A year later had the words Quinn had spoken to him that night tattooed along his ribs, as nothing had ever made more sense to him before in his life. Quinn had yelled at him for marking his body like that, but he knew she loved it by the way two tears slid down her cheeks, and the way she kissed him as if he was the oxygen she needed to breathe, which in a sense, he most definitely was.

Puck smiled as he watched his pregnant wife sing their son to sleep, Noah having quickly become the light of his life. Quinn had explained, through many tears, that she had left so quickly because she was pregnant, and she was afraid. He understood that she was afraid, and although he was angry for missing out on his son, he wasn't angry with her. He could never be angry with her, especially not after she admitted she had never really let go of him, and that she had been watching him and checking up on him every day whilst they had been apart.

And so when she climbed into bed beside him, and pressed the bump of their daughter into his side, he held her close, knowing he would never let go again, smiling as he felt Quinn's fingers stroking over his tattoo.

And then she whispered those words again, with shining eyes and a loving smile, leaning in to kiss him before they settled down to sleep.

"You let me go. And now I've come home."

* * *

_**Please review and have a great weekend :)**_

_**ps: pre buy 1989 on iTunes, cause you know what they say... there's no album like a pre buy album ;)**_


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